​​Of course, the tale was as she (and Google) had predicted. The door was shuttered, the lights dim, and the interior an abandoned mishmash of wooden planks, garbage bins, and the remnants of my favourite Koreatown café.​It was official. Put A Cone On It was no more. (Odd of them to delay the update of their website, though.)

I proceeded with my haircut, where a lady with Sk8ter Boi-esque eye makeup and tacky bubble gum pink lips welcomed me to her chair. She snipped away at an alarming speed, much like the ahjusshi from the uptown location. However, despite the flat bangs, the results were far superior. Unlike with the owner of the salon, a small language barrier lay between us: a request for no flat iron-ing somehow ended up with bouncy waves, using the very tool I had demanded not to be used.

​An hour and a half later, I met up with orangecane, who shamelessly called me back to P.A.T. after I had already crossed diagonally. It was all for the sake of listening to the rest of a specific album. She acquired her Custard Taiyaki and Jollypong, whereas I happily picked up an Orion Squid Peanut.

Continuing onwards, I secured my regular order of walnut cakes and hoddeok from Hodo Kwaja. It was at this point that we began to browse the area for something to do until dinnertime. The lady behind the counter - who knows me all too well from my binge purchases over the past few years - suggested board games at Snakes & Lattes, or rock climbing at Basecamp.
Basecamp was extremely compact in comparison to Hub, and seeing as I had already purchased a temporary membership, there was little incentive to invest in the sport at such a grand distance from home. A pungent whiff of curry slapped us squarely in the face as we pulled open the door to Snakes & Lattes; I recoiled. We promptly stepped back outside and commenced an aimless journey eastward.

​The Annex Food Hall assumed a brief slot in our itinerary.
By the time we had reached Bay station, the sky had dimmed to a solemn sapphire. After assimilating with two other members, off we went for sustenance (and sake).

​When I had visited last, Kinka had been as Guu. Over three years have since passed, yet the menu and atmosphere remain the same as I recalled of the North York location.

​As we hadn't made reservations in advance, our sole option was to reside at the bar. Space was extremely limited: not only were we unable to share our orders between the group, I was bound by the weight of my bulky backpack - newly-acquired snacks and all - due to the absence of hooks. The cubby space embedded into the bar stool proved insufficient for my needs. Not all was in vain, however, since we obtained an unobstructed view of the bar. Illumination was adequate, and jackets could be hung up on a coat rack to free up space.

​We ordered our dishes in small bursts, as suggested by one member of the group. "They come all at once." He warned, "And there isn't enough space."
orangecane and I had opted for two stone pot dishes, so they were actually amongst the last of the first round of items to arrive. Our sake flight, on the other hand, was presented in a matter of minutes.

In my opinion, Kinka Sake was a good starter.
"It tastes like water." came a contradicting remark.

Asian Pear was fragrant, but lacked depth. Izumi, otherwise known as the Bamboo Sake, was the unanimous winner of the trio. Its profile was clean and refreshing, yet packed a noticeable punch.

​Finding greens on the menu wasn't challenging, since the tapas were already sorted in their respective categories on the menu. The challenge was agreeing on a style we could enjoy collectively. Eventually, due to the awkward corner spacing, we selected our items in groups of two.

Gomaae, a side dish commonly presented with spinach or kale, took the form of blanched rapini in Kinka's rendition. A vegetarian black sesame sauce was the supposed condiment, and while its dark, sludge-like disposition matched our visual expectations, the gritty, aromatic profile of black sesame was nowhere to be found. Sodium-laden beyond belief, we resorted to brushing a portion off to the side before consuming the rest of the stalks.

​Wagyu Nabe was a monthly special. Priced at $10.50, I hadn't expected a great deal of marbling on the beef. That said, the constituents of the bowl were quite ordinary (and economic, if I must add). We had first presumed the broth to consist of natto, for a pungent, poop-like scent escaped from its surface when it was first set on the table. The stench later dissipated, enabling us to eat without uneasiness.

​Unagi Bibimbap was exactly as I had remembered it: toasty and satisfying. It did not equate to Hub's level, though I was satisfied nonetheless.

Sake Kama had been plucked from the rotating daily menu; the platter consisted of buttery soft grilled salmon belly collar accompanied by scallions, grated daikon, and a lemon wedge. The remainder of the assortment was merely decent, minus the hollow deep-fried Brie triangle.

​Between the two of us, we shared a glass of Umeshu Choya. The recommendation of plum wine had come from one of orangecane's friends; one sip in, and I knew it was a decision that neither of us would regret. Despite being undeniably more powerful than sake, the Choya was an easy beverage to drain away. It was sweet, zesty, and, most of all, alluring. Appealing to the cider-lover/sugar fiend within us, we nodded in approval. Had we not been nearing the end of our meal, it would have been difficult to refrain from ordering a second glass.
Keep in mind that only one third of the glass is filled with the liquor; customers can opt for cold water or club soda to pair with it.

​By sharing any photo of our meal on social media, we - or I suppose, just me - earned a slice of Black Sesame Cheesecake as dessert. As with the gomaae, there was little black sesame flavour to be perceived. Its texture was of a proper cheesecake and the hue a rich grey, but the originality ended there.

Individual bathroom stalls were located on the lower level of the restaurant. Narrow slivers with baskets of toiletries on the countertop, the layout was identical to that of JaBistro and Kinton.

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Who Am I?

​I'm the one that talks fashion and K-Pop randoms behind Quirky Aesthetics, the one who contributes honest opinions about commercial beauty items on Review Junkie, the one that obsessively shares photos of food on Pinterest, the one that loves her ﻿﻿DSLR﻿﻿more than her own beingand the one that wants to work in the transportation sector for a living.Welcome to the raw, unfiltered side of Quirky Aesthetics.